For many days the company journeyed through the eastern half of the Mark. They never stopped for very long in one place, for Erda wished to keep their pace quick. For a single day lost on the journey might make all the difference between the survival or the fall of the House of the Tree. They followed a route which had been prepared for by King Magnus during Erda’s brief stay at the city. The very day of the Moot, the king had sent forth swift riders to the halls and keeps and villages that Erda’s company was to pass, bearing messages for the lords and ladies to have fresh provisions prepared for the travellers. The weather was clear, and Erda was encouraged by the band’s swift progress and the fresh air of the new spring. But not all was well in the company.

For the most part, the company was unsettled by the dogged presence of Pike, always lingering at the edge of their vision. Like a crow clinging to a dying man, they said, or a storm-cloud looming which could bring down rain at any moment. Pike kept to himself, never joining the others in conversations or for meals (none were quite sure where he got his food from). And when any of them locked eyes with him, the grey cloaked man would hold their gaze defiantly, though his eyes never really seemed to look at them. When the Thanes expressed their worries to Erasmus, he only shrugged his shoulders and said such things as “Don’t fret about him, he’s on our side,” and “Beggars can’t be choosers.” And when the Rangers asked the same things to Erda, she only said, “He’s alright. Leave him to his solitude. The time will soon come when the worth of us all shall be proven. We shall see what our grim friend over there is truly made of.” And so the company stopped asking questions about Pike, though the answers never satisfied them, and when tiredness or moodiness cast shadows over them, they whispered in dark tones about “the Grey Rat”.

But it was Myra who brooded longer and deeper and more darker than the rest of them. She had not struck up much of a friendship with the others, for the Rangers always kept close to their queen, and Myra found she did not like to be around Erda very much. Erda was too beautiful. Too charming. Too good to be true. Her existence made Myra feel small and wretched by comparison. When one of the pack-mules stood alongside Erda’s graceful white mare, Myra could not help but feel like she was that mule. But then worse than that, she knew that she wouldn’t compare herself to the Ranger Queen so much, if Erasmus was not there.

Erasmus, as the unspoken leader of the Thanes, was often speaking to other members of the company, or with the nobles or village chieftains they met along the way. Myra felt her loneliness keenly when he was not with her. Worst of all was when he was talking with Erda, which was he really didn’t do all that often, but Myra felt otherwise. They got along very well, she thought, the knight and the queen. They would sing and joke and laugh, with every smile they shared giving Myra a sinking feeling in her stomach. And every time Erda would reach out her slender hand and touch Erasmus on his strong arm, blades of ice would pierce Myra’s heart.

“You’re a stupid girl,” Myra would mumble to herself. “What the hell were you thinking, coming along on this quest. You knew things would be like this, and yet you followed along anyway…” Her thoughts often turned to bitterness, which would mostly be aimed at herself, if not for the lingering presence of… him. The wretched head-hunter.

She did not get along with the Thanes, Pike had made sure of that before the quest had even begun. The ones called Joren, Scale, and Kregan, all gave her funny looks, obviously with unspoken questions on their tongues, though her apparent friendship with Erasmus kept them quiet. It was clear that they remembered the encounter in the palace the day before the Moot, when Pike had lied to them about being Myra’s lover. It didn’t take long for that story to be whispered amongst the Thanes, until they all looked at her with suspicion and wariness, as if she were some strange and dangerous creature whose behaviour no one knew.

And so as the days drew on and the further westward they went, Myra began to spend her nights in the camp idly toying with her dagger, with dark thoughts stirring in her mind. She had claimed to have abandoned her ideas about avenging Garth, about killing the head-hunter. And that was all changed (fix later).

As they progressed westwards, the settlements of the Thanes and their allied peoples thinned out. The land grew more rugged, and the land sloped up as though they were going steadily uphill. The first dark hills and mountains of the western wilds reared up ominously to block the view of the horizon. As untamed as the Mark had seemed, it did not compare to these parts. Some of the company who had never been this far westwards look at their surroundings uncertainly, wondering perhaps if they had made a wrong turn and somehow gone over the northern mountains into the lands beyond. Pike grew uneasy, feeling unseen presences lurking about behind hills or in the tangled pine forests. He would not keep his eyes off Erda for very long (for her protection, of course), so he only gave the occasional glances about the place, feeling for certain that eyes were peering at company from all around.

As the sun began its descent behind the brooding western hills, Bran and Conn returned from scouting ahead. Erda called for the company to halt and called Erasmus to her. They and the young Rangers talked privately for a bit, and then Erasmus called for them all to turn from their course and towards a large, solitary hill, crowned with trees. The company and all their beasts ascended the hill and pitched camp. Erasmus began giving orders. “Tie up the beasts in the middle of that thicket there, and set camp around it. Set campfires here, and here.” Erasmus had gotten very serious about this, Pike noticed.

Pike, avoiding the others, took a look about the hill which they had camped upon. The face they ascended sloped upwards not too roughly, but on the opposite side the hill dropped sharply away and joined a series of jutting crags and boulders. Erasmus had ordered the Thanes to camp on the side of the hill overlooking the slope, the slope which a host of enemies would be able to climb. It seemed the Paladin and the Rangers expected company…

In the camp, the air had grown tense. A sense of unease had been growing in the Thanes for some time, becoming stronger the closer they got to the highlands. Even Erasmus seemed unnerved. Myra passed him by to tether her horse with the others.

“Myra,” he said to her. “Don’t stray too far from the others tonight.”

“I was only going to mind the horses,” she said.

Erasmus shook his head. “I’d like you to take first watch. Your eyes are keen. I don’t want any unexpected surprises coming our way tonight.” He said to her in a very matter-of-fact tone.

“Are the Westlands that bad?”

“We are not in the Westlands. We haven’t even left the Mark yet.”

With that, Erasmus turned and left her. He had seemed very cold just then, and Myra couldn’t help but feel somewhat hurt. Gloomily she made her way past the campfires and the surrounding Thanes, trying her best not to notice their sidelong glances, though it only made her more angry and bitter. She sat down on large rock jutting out of the earth not too far from the campfires and rested her chin on her knees, watching the grim lands that lay before her, though she did not really take in the sight.

At the fire nearest to her, she could hear some Thanes talking in hushed voices they apparently thought she wouldn’t hear. But she listened anyway.

“I don’t like the look of them hills,” said Narn, an older man from the eastern frontier of the Mark. “Its like they’re watching you. Waiting to swallow you up, if you catch my meaning.”

“Who cares a fig about them hills,” said Scale. “It’s the thought of what’s in them that gives me the shivers.”

“Come now,” said Kregan. “The Rangers seem a jolly bunch. And they live smack dab in the middle of all that. Can’t be that bad.”

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“Aye,” agreed Narn. “But they’re a strange lot. Enchanted perhaps. And its been the Lady Erda that’s been doing all the talking for them, and she’s one of ours.”

“And none of them have at all mentioned what else we might come across there,” said Brune, a darkly bearded Thane who held a perpetual scowl on his face. “Aside from these Berserks. They’re so secretive. It’s hard to think of them as allies when they won’t tell us anything worth spit.”

“The place is enchanted I say,” continued Narn. “Can’t you feel it? My Ma’ always warned me never to mess with spirits n’ spells n’ things you couldn’t rightly see or touch.”

“I’ll take spirits and Berserks any day.” Scale leaned in closer. “But that Head Hunter now. I’d feel a good deal better about this quest if that one weren’t tagging along.”

“Now that you mention it,” said Brune, glancing about. “Where has that Grey Rat slunk off to now? I don’t know which is worse, seeing him, or not seeing him.”

“It’s a mystery,” said Kregan. “The Rangers don’t trust us enough to share everything with us, but then Erda lets that one join the party? Of all people? I mean, he can fight, but still…”

“He’s a fey one, all right,” said Scale. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he was a demon, come straight up from hell.”

“That one will be bad luck on us all, to be sure, to be sure,” muttered Narn.

“A demon? What rot,” Brune growled deeply. “That one pisses and shits just like the rest of us. And yet here we are whispering about him like frightened children.”

“He’s a dangerous one to mess with,” said Scale. “Killing men comes as naturally to him as breathing. I saw Erasmus fight him. Wasn’t even close. Erasmus couldn’t even get close to landing a blow. Then when the fight was over, that spiteful wretch gave Erasmus that scar, just to draw blood.”

“And yet we sit here and let the Grey Rat just go about as he pleases.” Brune tested the edge of his dagger against his thumb. “He’s insulted both our king, and our captain. The fact that he’s still breathing is a stain on the honour of all Thanes.”

“Easy Brune,” said Kregan. “You haven’t seen that one with a sword in his hand. Besides, Erasmus is our captain, and Erda our Lady, if they say to leave him be…”

“More likely they’re just frightened of him,” went on Brune. “The Grey Rat has probably just heard about Ranger treasure and threatened our lady into allowing him to follow us. I say, if something isn’t done, we’ll all regret it.”

Scale nodded his head solemnly. “That does make some sense.”

“Whatever he is,” said Brune, “a knife in the throat will put him in the ground for good. Once he’s asleep, or taking a squat, all we need to do is…”

“No one is to kill the Head Hunter,” Myra said, standing over the Thanes, her face fierce in the red firelight. “That one is mine to kill…” Her voice sent a chill through the spines of the listening Thanes.

“But…” said Kregan. “Aren’t you… weren’t you… his…?”

“Never!” Myra hissed. “That one’s a liar and a murderer. He’s done me wrong. If anyone is to slit that bastard’s throat, it’ll be me!”

“Shh! Not so loud!” urged Kregan.

“Oh look at the lot of you!” snapped Myra. “I thought you Thanes were meant to be mighty heroes off on some impossible quest. And here you sit whispering and hissing like gossiping old hags!” Myra had had a lot of anger brewing those past few weeks.

“Oi…” said Brune in icy tones as he rose slowly to his feet. “Watch that tongue of yours. None of us know who the hell you are well enough to trust you any more than that Grey Rat.”

“So you think I’m like him are you?” spat Myra. “But I guess since I’m a woman, you have to balls to stand up to me. Is that it?”

Brune got very red in the face. He clenched his great fists until the veins began to bulge on the back of his hands. Kregan began to stumble to his feet, getting ready to stop Brune if he lashed out at Myra. But Brune only grinned savagely and let out a low, cruel chuckle.

“So that’s how it is, huh? Now that the Grey Rat has his back turned, we are all beginning to feel brave again. Har! What a joke! It seems like we’ll all be stuck here running our mouths, until one of us actually goes and puts that dog in his place.”

With that Brune stuck his dagger in his belt and stalked off. Kregan leapt up to try and stop him. Scale bounded over to the nearest campfire and quietly ushered the Thanes there to follow. Myra, suddenly realising what was going on, followed them too. Erasmus, who was deep in conversation with Erda and the Rangers, did not notice the hushed commotion.

On the other side of the hill, overlooking the rock land beyond, Brune and the others spotted Pike, sitting against a tree with a lit pipe to his mouth, the smoke snaking away into the night air. Pike of course heard the heavy footfalls of the approaching Brune, but he did not want to show that he cared all that much, and so he leaned back his head and blew smoke rings into the air with his eyes closed, as if he were relaxing on a warm summer’s day.

“Get up, you wretched weasel!” snarled Brune, hand hovering over his dagger. The Thane took note that Pike’s sword was laying just outside of reach. But Pike only sat there, as if he hadn’t noticed. “What’s the matter? Too much of a bloody coward to face me?!”

Pike sat forward, looking one way, and then slowly turning his head to Brune. “Oh… talking to me, are you?”

“You’ve much to answer for. It’s high time someone put you on your arse! That is, if you don’t do us all the favour and scurry off to die in a hole somewhere, and leave honest folk in peace.”

“My my…” Pike slowly, and very casually, tapped out the contents of his pipe and rose to his feet, never making a move for his sword. “And here we were, having such a lovely journey together. Been at the drink, have you? Don’t blame you. Got to find courage somewhere…”

“One more word from you…” Brune stepped closer, raising a fist. “And I’ll be wearing your bloody teeth as a necklace.”

Pike eyes flashed icily. A chill swept through the watching Thanes. Myra remembered that day in the forest…

“Try it… you Thane pig…”

Brunes fist lashed out to deliver a punch, but Pike was faster. Pike’s arm became a blur, and his fist smashed into Brune’s face, sending the Thane flying backwards, blood gushing from his ruined nose. Pike then reached for a dagger behind his back, but two Thanes had already charged forward and grabbed hold of his arms. Pike thrashed savagely, but more Thanes rushed in and dragged him down to the ground with their weight. Brune staggered to his feet in a blustering rage, knife gleaming wickedly in his fist. “Hold the whore-son still! I’ll rip his damn guts out!”

“HOLD YOU DOGS!” a voice boomed out. Myra turned to see Erasmus stomping their way, tall and terrible. His face filled with rage. “What the hell is going on here?! Get back! All of you get back!”

Brune was about to protest angrily, but one look from Erasmus shut him up. The Thanes crowded around Pike backed away, all the more quickly to get out of reach from flailing fists and gnashing teeth. Pike launched himself to his feet, aiming his dagger at the Thanes. Blood trickled slowly from the corner of his mouth.

“You pigs! Come on cowards, try it again! I’ll take you all on!”

“Enough, Pike!” Erasmus marched forward. “Put the blade away.”

“Pah! And get rushed by your dogs again? No thanks…”

Erasmus glanced at the Thanes, the mighty warriors all avoiding the Paladin’s gaze like guilty students. “All of you, back to your posts! By the gods, are we the Mark’s finest or common thugs?”

The Thanes shuffled back to the camp. Brune shot a venomous glance over his shoulder at Pike, but Pike returned the stare and Brune shuffled away a little faster. Myra followed them, trying not to be noticed by Erasmus. When they had gone, the Paladin gave an exasperated sigh and turned to Pike.

“Guess you have the honour of drawing first blood on our quest.”

“If that happens again…” hissed Pike. “I’ll give them more than a bloody nose…”

“If that happens again,” said Erasmus. “Our quest is done. We might not like it, but we’re all in this together. If this kind of thing continues when the going gets rough, it could be the death of us all.”

“If you care that much, then take your Thane bastards home. Having to keep an eye on all you pieces of trash will only distract me from the fight.” Pike turned, scooped up his sword and began picking his way down the face of the hill.

“Where in the world are you going now?” called Erasmus after him.

“For a walk! What does it look like!”

Erasmus shook his head and grit his teeth. “Just breathe, old horse…” He muttered to himself.

Pike, with careful steps, made his way down the steep hillside, his breath heavy with rage. He thought he might go find a stream or a river to cool off in. Otherwise he might end up killing the next person he saw. Halfway down the hill, however, he stopped. The wind had changed direction, and he began to hear faint voices, coming from below, speaking in harsh, unintelligible whispers. Peeping from behind an out-jutting rock, he could make out human shapes scrambling up the hill and through the rocks below. Pike took a closer look and waited for the moon to appear from behind the clouds. Yes, they were men, making their way uphill. Even Pike had trouble seeing them, for they must have been covered in dark paint or tattoos. There was maybe half a dozen of them, and they all carried knives in their teeth and in their belts.

“Sneaky bastards…” Pike said with a devilish grin. He drew his sword out of its scabbard and stealthily made his way downhill.

The strangers, all fierce, lean, wolfish men, came up over a crest to take a brief rest upon a stone ledge. But they were all eager to continue their journey, eager to fall upon the backs of an un-expecting prey. When they were ready, they glanced uphill to their destination… and froze when the saw the grey cloaked swordsman with the pale eyes standing over them upon a jutting rock.

They didn’t understand his words, though their blood went cold when they heard his voice. “You poor bastards sure picked a bad time.”

Pike leapt down at them, and the slaughter began.